


Arcade Fire

by ottosrvnge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Bad Decisions, Cigarettes, Clubbing, Confessions, Crying, Dancing, Drug Use, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Fuckbuddies, Gentle Kissing, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Has Nightmares, Harry Potter Has PTSD, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Pining, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottosrvnge/pseuds/ottosrvnge
Summary: Harry wanted to dance. He wanted to come up behind Malfoy, take his waist in between his hands, lick up from his collarbone to his ear and whisper something alluring. But he couldn't think of anything alluring, and he couldn't bring himself to move. His body was a cage, keeping him anchored to the side of the bar only allowed to watch as Malfoy let his lips drag across strange men. Their hands all over him, his hands all over them. It was just like Malfoy, to be the center of attention and be completely unbothered.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	Arcade Fire

**Author's Note:**

> TW sex with strangers, drugs, alcohol, crying through sex
> 
> This is loosely based on My Body Is A Cage by Arcade Fire

Harry had been staring- in shock, or awe, or infatuation he couldn't be sure. Malfoy was there, drink spilling over him as he danced around himself. Entertaining the men who dared to be within his breath. He was ethereal- dressed in all white, with what little clothes he had one. Incredibly pale, scars on display. Harry had made one, he was sure. 

He had been staring since he noticed Malfoy in the club, looking like he was home, entirely in place. The people- the men- loved him there. Who wouldn't? Even in school, Harry had always let his thoughts wander to that tight little body, that tortuous tongue, and, Merlin, those fingers. He could see those fingers now, twirling in the air as the other five held his cup above his head. The Dark Mark. It wasn't covered. Suppose he wouldn't have to cover it in muggle clubs. They don't know what it means. 

Harry wanted to dance. He wanted to come up behind Malfoy, take his waist in between his hands, lick up from his collarbone to his ear and whisper something alluring. But he couldn't think of anything alluring, and he couldn't bring himself to move. His body was a cage, keeping him anchored to the side of the bar only allowed to watch as Malfoy let his lips drag across strange men. Their hands all over him, his hands all over them. It was just like Malfoy, to be the center of attention and be completely unbothered. 

The bartender slid Harry a whiskey, said it was from someone he didn't care enough about to look at. He couldn't possibly break his focus on the beads of sweat trailing down Malfoy's neck. The warmth was nice, though. Gentle burns made their way down his throat and into his stomach, he groaned softly after he had downed the glass. 

Malfoy had taken to some bloke- tall, muscular, tattooed to the heavens. He looked a bit like Harry, just bigger. They'd barely talked for a minute before they were snogging, tongues down each others throat. Hands all over each other. Harry could almost hear the sounds Malfoy would make, he'd imagined them for so long. He wished it was him instead. 

It wasn't long before they left, Malfoy leading him out of the club. 

Harry cursed himself for remaining shackled to the bar the whole night, he wished he'd danced with Malfoy, kissed him, gone home with him. Fuck. 

He ordered vodka shots, sharing them with a guy who'd been talking to him. Harry wasn't particularly listening. The guy- Brian maybe?- was fit enough. Skinny, pale, rosy lips, but his hair was just a tad too yellow. Harry prefers platinum. 

"D'you wanna get out of here?" Harry shouted, not interested in Brian enough to go through the motions. Surely they'd talked enough now to have a shag. He hoped he wasn't being too crass. 

Brian- or maybe it was Tyler?- was enthusiastic, utterly ecstatic. His flat was a dirty red and gold, Harry didn't pay much attention to it until Brian-Tyler had screamed his name as he came. His full name. 'Harry Potter' he had said. And Harry was quite sure he never told the guy his name. 

"Night Tyler." 

"It's Lyle." 

The boy spoke with an appropriate amount of hurt and awe, Harry prayed he wouldn't go to The Prophet. He always hated the gossip. 

Malfoy didn't come back to the club the next night, Harry had gone home with some American on holiday. His friends were obnoxious, egging him on as they'd snogged on the dance floor. At least his hotel was quiet. 

The night after was a small German boy, he reminded Harry of Malfoy at Hogwarts. Not as filled out as he was that night at the club, but exactly as Harry had pictured Malfoy under his robes in 5th year. 

Finally, the third night Malfoy was back. Already dancing with some guy when Harry had come in. He was wearing all black, a lovely contrast against his pale skin. Harry was determined to talk to him this time. But his body failed him again, only allowing him prolonged stares.

Malfoy's body moved so fluidly, arms moving down his body like he was underwater. Harry could see his adam's apple bob, swallowing as he danced. Sweat clung to his frame, matting down his necklaces to his mostly bare chest. He danced for what seemed like eternities. 

When Harry looked away for a moment- just a second- to order a drink, Malfoy was gone. Fuck. He'd missed his chance again. Malfoy had gone home with someone, and he got to experience Malfoy. What he felt like around his cock, what he sounded like, what he tasted like, what he begged for. 

"You stare a lot for someone avoiding me." Malfoy's voice was right next to him, breathy and low. He hadn't taken someone else home. Harry was one meter away from Malfoy and hadn't even known it. Too blinded by jealousy- well, he wouldn't call it that, just something. 

"Who says I'm avoiding you?" 

Malfoy smiled, sharp incisors slowly coming out of hiding as his lips spread. Merlin, his lips would look great wrapped around Harry's c- "You haven't been in the same room as me for five years, we've been at the same events nearly twenty times." 

"I hate events." Harry laughed a bit, finishing his drink before moving to take in Malfoy's full visage. Chunky boots, tight leather pants with laces tying them up but leaving just enough skin exposed to be cruel, and what could hardly be called a top made of fishnet. 

"Let's dance." Malfoy held out his hand, Dark Mark in full view, as if he was testing Harry. Seeing how far he could be himself before Harry went back to casting 'Sectum Sempra' and hexes. 

Harry took Malfoy's hand, sweaty and warm, "Let's get out of here." 

Malfoy just laughed, letting Harry lead him outside. Cool air easing Harry's mind and amplifying the alcohol in him. He pushed Malfoy against a brick wall, hands firm on each of his hips. 

"You gonna let me fuck you tonight, Malfoy?" Harry mouthed against sweaty collarbones, tongue lapping out as he spoke. 

"Find out, Potter." 

Harry took Malfoy's mouth against his, harsh and desperate. He'd wanted this for years. He wasn't going to waste it. Malfoy made the prettiest little whimpers into him as Harry nipped at his bottom lip, wishing it was hard enough to bleed so he'd have some proof that he got Draco Malfoy under him. His hands ventured down Malfoy's arse, cursing the leather for being there as he tried to fit his hand underneath it. Reaching up to play with Malfoy's nipples with his other hand, Harry kept his tongue and teeth focused on leaving as much proof that Malfoy, at least in that moment, was his. 

Malfoy parted from Harry with a wry chuckle, his hands reaching down to palm at Harry's cock. "Not tonight, Potter. I've decided." 

Harry groaned, laughing as he tried to bring Malfoy back to him. Malfoy only palmed at Harry's cock harder and slipped around his body. He pushed Harry against the wall, his cock against Harry's ass as he kissed up the back of his neck. "Don't get cocky, Potter." 

"You're a tease." 

"And you're a whore." 

"You're not any better." 

Malfoy slipped away, walking away as Harry watched. He shouted after him, "What about tommorow night?" 

"Find out, Potter." And with that, Malfoy had apparated out. Harry thought only a cruel god would have squilched him before he could dig his hands and his cock into him. 

He didn't go home with anyone that night, resigning to lay awake in his bed. Thoughts tainted with the whiskey and the tequila of the night, along with the utterly intoxicating scene with Malfoy. His face stung where the bricks had scraped against it, his hands hummed with the memory of Malfoy's sweaty skin, his lips swelled and longed for more. He'd put on some music, not paying attention to the lyrics so much as the way it stirred his cock with fantasies. 

Fucking Malfoy against that brick wall, chasing each breath with Malfoy's as they fell against each other. His head settled into the crook of Harry's neck, teeth latching into the skin, maybe breaking skin. Malfoy always looked like a vampire, Harry think he'd like the look of Malfoy with his blood surrounding those lips. 

He was already fisting his cock, aching for release. 

Malfoy's mouth came into Harry's mind, what would his throat feel like? Warm, wet, tight. Malfoy would be a git about it, cursing Harry everytime he choked but silencing around it hungrily. Harry knows he's a whore, he suspects it, anyway. The way he moved, tantalizing and dangerous. So agile and practiced. 

Gentle thoughts invaded Harry's mind. A fantasy he'd put away since school; Draco finding him in a Hogwarts corridor, hands caressing him through his robes and tenderly cupping his face into a kiss. Harry would whine 'what are you doing' and Draco would only move closer, closing the gap between their lips. A cautious kiss full of pent up infatuation. 

Harry came. Not bothering to clean himself before letting the alcohol and activities of the night take it's toll. 

The first nightmare in a while. He'd forgotten his potion. Harry woke up well into the evening, sweat and fear smothering him and pushing him into his bed like an anvil. He didn't feel like going to the club, aware of the experience he might be missing out on. His teenage self would throttle him for even refusing the opportunity, but the dream held too much weight just then. 

Cleansing charms didn't wash off the memories enough, Harry had to force himself into the shower. He laid in the tub, letting the hot water boil him. 

He didn't do much that day; a glass of firewhiskey, a film he paid no attention to, some muggle medications- stronger pain pills from when he broke his collarbone in the New York tube before getting to a healer. He fell asleep after a few hours, ignoring the owls he got. 

He remembered his potion, waking up gently from dreamless sleep. No anvils pressing him to the bed. 

Malfoy was dancing alone when Harry got to the club. Brightly colored and languid in his motions. 

He joined, entirely too sober. 

Their hands moved in tandem, Malfoy pushing against Harry's cock and Harry resting his head against one of Malfoy's shoulder. It was bliss. Exciting. Fun. 

"Shame you weren't here yesterday," Malfoy shouted over the music, Harry felt the vibrations against his face. 

"What would you have done?" Harry spoke directly into Malfoy's ear, hands trailing up and down his body as it rolled back into him. 

"Same thing, just to you instead." 

Harry placed his hands on Malfoy's hips, spinning him to face him. Pushing their groins together. Harry groaned against soft lips, "Then do it tonight," he whispered before closing the gap between them gingerly. 

The kiss wasn't like last time, it was softer. 

Draco pulled back, his face was bewildered, maybe hurt. He left. Harry trailed after him, confused. 

"You can't do that." Draco said into the outside air, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. 

"Do what?" 

"Don't act dumb, Potter." 

Harry wasn't acting. He genuinely didn't understand what he'd done wrong. Kiss him? They'd already done that. "I won't kiss you in public again." 

"You're insufferable." 

Draco left. Harry went home. The whole thing was dramatic and unreasonable, fitting for Malfoy. 

Harry wanted to send an owl, but he didn't know the address. His owl was a fucking moron, unable to follow vague directions. Maybe he'd use someone else's or get a new owl. He needed one. But he'd grown quite fond of little Nessa. 

Malfoy didn't come back to the club for another week. Harry had lost interest in anonymous sex, spent his nights searching the crowds and nursing numerous drinks. He ignored the men who approached him, even the one who looked exactly like Malfoy if he'd gone into trapeze. At home, he would think of Malfoy at every angle and perception. Waiting and hoping he hadn't fucked everything up, with whatever it was he did. 

After that week he decided he'd find something else to occupy his nights, it was mostly boredom and shitty television. 

An owl pecked at his window incessantly, terribly hard to ignore. He didn't recognize the bird, probably an obsessed fan or The Ministry tying to get him back into auror training. Harry heard the glass pane crack before he finally let the owl in. It looked incredibly angry. Harry notice the gold pendant on around it's neck 'Lucien' was his name. 

"Alright Lucien, what the fuck does someone want?" he asked the bird, petting it gently as he spoke just as gently. The bird spat the letter out unceremoniously. 

'Come back to Spirit Keys, Prat.' 

"Draco, then." Harry barely recalled the name of the club, he only really registered it twice; when he found it and when he took Neville who was utterly baffled by the name. It wasn't too strange for a Muggle club, still way better than any Wizard club's name. 

Lucien cooed, eyeing the owl treats Nessa was hoarding in her cage. Harry gave him one and opened the window for him to return home. 

He didn't bother changing his clothes, leaving the house in his joggers and t-shirt. 

Malfoy was stood outside, smoking a cigarette. Harry didn't know he smoked. Most purebloods don't. He looked incredible. A leather jacket to rival those old gangster films he'd been watching and ripped jeans. 

"You dressed up," Malfoy snorted. 

"Always at my best, Draco." 

"Draco." It wasn't a question, just an echo. 

Harry motioned for a fug, Draco scoffed but handed one over. He didn't seem to have a lighter, not the full muggle experience, then. Draco lit it before Harry had the chance. Wandless and wordless. 

They stood there smoking for a while, not saying anything and simply observing the men who went in the club. Drunk, loud, rowdy. 

"Take me home, Potter." Malfoy demanded softly, throwing the end of his cigarette into the street. 

"Wow, buy me dinner first." 

"Don't then." 

Harry let Malfoy walk a few steps away before grabbing his hand and pulling him back, bodies flushed together. He apparated them, not caring if the muggles saw. 

Draco moved first, crashing their lips together and gripping at Harry's shirt, pushing them even closer together. Harry's cigarette had come with them, he let it fall from his hand onto his floor. Matching Draco's energy, the desperation and fire behind it. 

Harry forced Draco's clothes off, throwing the jacket and the shirt across his living room as they stumbled to the bed. 

"Fuck you, Harry." 

"Go ahead." 

Harry liked the way Draco said his name, a soft plea. They fell on the bed, lips stuck together as Draco's hands traveled down Harry's body. 

Draco sniffled and Harry felt a wetness spread across his face from Draco's. He was crying. Crying? 

"Wait, stop." 

"What." It wasn't a question, a snarky demand. 

"You're crying." 

"What of it?" 

Draco tried to continue, his hands pressing against Harry's lap. Harry grabbed his hands, pushing them away and trying to understand. What the fuck? 

"No. Draco. Are you okay?" 

"What's it matter to you?" 

Harry stared at Draco. What the fuck was that question? Of course it mattered to him. 

"You don't get to do that. You don't get to care. You never cared before." 

"Never cared?" Harry asked, is that how Draco saw it? All those years. Never cared? "Draco, I-" 

"Just fuck me. I'll get you out of my system. You'll be rid of me. I'll be rid of you." 

Draco kissed him again, white hot anger stoking the fire. Harry didn't try to stop it, this is what Draco wanted. 

Bodies stuck together, sweat spilling onto the sheets. Draco came first, pained gasps as Harry filled him. 

The laid together for a moment, Harry looked over at Draco. He was crying again. 

Fuck it. 

"Draco I- I'm sorry." 

"It doesn't concern you." 

"You're in my bed, my house-" 

"It's not your business." 

"Fuck. Just let me do this one thing for you." 

Before Draco could answer Harry kissed him. Gentle, like his schoolboy fantasy. He brought his hands to finger through his hair, tongue sliding against Draco's bottom lip. Harry traced shapes into pale neck fingers brushing against his earlobe. 

Draco whined. Harry felt his hands hesitate to touch. Maybe that was what he did wrong that night in the club, be gentle, caring. He pulled up above, a line of spit still connecting their lips. Cheeks flushed pink. Draco looked serene. 

"Can I- Do you want this?" Harry asked, eyes searching Draco's. His face was relaxed but his eyes held a substantial amount of terror. 

"It would mean something to me. I tried incredibly hard for it to mean nothing but- you really shouldn't." 

The terror in his eyes had relaxed into hopelessness. Harry tried to formulate a response, tried to comprehend what Draco meant but he couldn't think beyond how tired Draco looked. Like he would fall apart if Harry did anything else wrong. It tore at the lining of his stomach, Draco wasn't supposed to look so unraveled, so incomplete. "You should sleep." 

"I'll get dressed." Draco started moving, Harry could see his expression darken, embarrassment and disappointment on his lips as he tried to untangle himself from Harry's sheets. 

Harry grabbed Draco's shoulders, only noticing how aggressive he was being after Draco stilled, he took a second to try to choose his words after pulling his hand back. "No, Draco. I mean, you should sleep here, I can go to the living room if you don't want me around. You look- you really should sleep." 

"Stay." Draco responded fast, he winced after he said it. It looked like he wanted to take it back, his mouth opened to say something but closed abruptly. 

Harry laid down, adjusting to the feeling of someone else- of Draco in his bed with him. He turned his lights out without thinking, the spell an instinct in the back of his mind when his back met mattress. Draco didn't seem affected by it, only letting out a sigh as he laid beside Harry. They didn't touch at all, the deliberate space between their bodies remained until Draco fell asleep. He really was as exhausted as he seemed, Harry hoped those weeks they'd been away from each other were kind to Draco. 

"What would it mean to you?" Harry asked Draco's unconscious body as he replayed their conversation. 

Draco shifted in his sleep, pulling himself closer to Harry. Their legs intertwined and breaths mingled. 

Did Draco want him? Harry laughed at the thought, but he couldn't help the warmth it spread through his chest.

Harry wanted him to want him. No, Harry wanted him. 

The realization wasn't that jarring, Harry had wanted him for years in school. He hadn't noticed the feelings had kept simmering the years after. It would be too good for Harry if Draco wanted him back. The world always had a way of ripping away anything too good for him. 

He resigned himself to studying Draco in the strands of moonlight, not allowing himself to think about what would happen in the morning. He'd left marks on Draco's shoulders, they looked so much softer than how they had felt in the moment. Harry curled his finger to trace the purple bites that littered Draco's skin. Feeling his cheeks warm from his smile before sleep overtook him. 

Draco wasn't there when he woke up. He expected as much. It still hurt to wake up like that, incredibly cold with his thoughts swirling from harsh dreams. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes tight as he let out a groan of frustration. 

It was only 7 A.M. but he couldn't bring himself to even try to go back to sleep. He pulled on a shirt and moved towards the bathroom, faltering as he found the door locked. 

"Draco?" 

"Fuck." The door opened to a half naked and dripping Draco Malfoy, "I was just going to get dressed and leave." 

"It would mean something to me, too." Harry felt the words fall out of him, they didn't let him think. "It's all meant something to me, actually." 

"Potter-" 

"You mean something to me, Draco." 

Harry killed himself a thousand times in the silence that followed, cursing himself over and over for ruining it all this time. Draco didn't speak, he didn't move. Until he did. 

Lips reaching for Harry's as his hands traveled gently across Harry's body. Water clung to Harry's shirt as Draco pressed against him. It was heaven. Bliss. Perfection. 

"I hate you. I really truly hate you, Harry." Draco whispered against Harry's lips after they parted. He didn't give Harry a chance to respond, pulling him back into the gentle kiss. Draco wasn't supposed to hate him. 

Harry pulled back as soon as the words fully registered, "You hate me?" 

"I do." 

"You hate me." 

"Harry-" 

"You hate me, Draco." 

"You hate me, too." 

Harry scoffed, laughing incredulously at the thought that he could hate Draco. "I've never hated you, Draco. Not once. I actually think I've loved you." 

"Oh fuck off, you can not love me." 

"You're insufferable. I am in love with you. I've been in love with you for years." Harry could feel his throat tightening, he could hear the venom in his words. This was when everything would get ripped away from him. That was always how it worked, he'd try for something more and he'd ruin it all. He didn't even know why he was trying to get something more from Draco, he'd decided not to try before he fell asleep. Why would he say anything? 

"I ha-" Draco let out a sigh, avoiding Harry's eyes as he inhaled a shaky breath, "I think I'm in love with you, too." 

"But you hate me." 

"I hate the way I feel when I let myself want you." 

Draco said it like it was the pinnacle of confessions, his voice was raw and his hands shook as they held onto the towel around his waist. Harry didn't know how to make sense of it but he knew what Draco meant, in that moment Harry knew exactly how Draco felt. He pulled their bodies flush together, letting years of infatuation and obsession and love flow from his lips to Draco's. Harry could feel their tears mingling as they crashed into each other like tsunamis. Gentle. Caring. Desperate.

The kiss carried until Harry felt his stomach drop. What happens next? They couldn't just be in a relationship. They couldn't just forget about it. Fuck. 

"What do we do now?" Harry asked, careful not to let his voice show how terrified he was. He couldn't foresee any outcomes, it was like his mind wasn't his own. 

"We could have breakfast." Draco smiled, the half smile he'd sported all of sixth year that held no emotion.

"We could have breakfast. Okay," Harry followed Draco's lead, pushing thoughts of the future out of his mind and focusing on what ingredients he had in his kitchen. They'd deal with it later.


End file.
